This was my spirit baby. I conceived my third child exactly three days after yoni steaming (vaginal steaming), which was a very spiritual experience. The goddess cards I pulled as I sat over the steam invoked independence, courage and following your heart. Little did I know how these values would come to play throughout this pregnancy and birth.

‍

I left my relationship with my partner and my children and I had to move with my mother just weeks before my due date amidst arguing about custody and child support. I started going to group therapy. I’m pretty sure I cried every day of my pregnancy.

‍

"I would go for long, slow walks around our new neighborhood, listening to music, breathing through the waves."

‍

Even though I’d had an unassisted pregnancy with my last baby, this time was even more uncertain. I was letting go of everything I’d thought I was building for the last 5 years with the father of my children. I had to reevaluate all of my ideas and my values...while still being there for my other children. I had to figure out my next steps and future plans to provide for myself and for them.

‍

We’d finally worked out visitation, so the kids were spending weekends with their dad. Every evening that they left the waves would begin; a dull ache spreading from my hips down my legs. I would go for long, slow walks around our new neighborhood, listening to music, breathing through the waves. In those final days, some friends sent me care packages with tinctures, candles, crystals, herbs, words of love and encouragement. My music was still playing and the soft, Hawaiian melodies kept me calm and focused. Bizaan. I think my mom sensed that something was happening because she checked on me again, mid-contraction and asked if she thought we had time for her to shower and change. I figured we did, the waves were still about 5 minutes apart and the pressure hadn’t shifted into my vaginal canal yet.

‍

But, as soon as she left I had a long, hard wave and my waters burst, splashing everywhere. I pulled myself onto my knees holding onto my headrest and felt the baby’s head start descending. My pelvis was so sore and I felt like I’d never be able to open enough for them to pass through. I lifted my left leg into a runner’s lunge as another wave washed over me. Out came his head and shortly after, his entire body slid out.

‍

"My angel baby. Less than 2 hours of active labor and he was here!"

‍

I was in shock that it had happened so quickly. I grabbed my phone chux pads to see that it was 1:11 am. My angel baby. Less than 2 hours of active labor and he was here! My mom rushed into my room in a towel because she’d heard him crying. “You said I had time!” We laughed at how baby’s always choose when to be born. My placenta came shortly after, maybe 15 minutes later and we inspected it to make sure it was intact.

‍

I got in the shower while my mom held him and then we climbed into bed. She brought me some food and cleaned up my sheets. I finally nodded off as the sun rose, my newest addition sleeping soundly on my chest. 

‍

The weekend he was born began much the same as any other. The kids’ dad picked them up and shortly after the waves started coming. I took another long, slow walk and things started picking up this time. I hurried home because I didn't want to have the child on the sidewalk!

‍

I prepared an epsom salt bath, turned out the lights and lit all the candles, surrounded myself with crystals and music. I settled into the warm waters. Wave after wave came for two or three hours. A little after midnight, the waves stopped and didn’t return.

‍

"His spirit had been so quiet my entire pregnancy, not giving me any clues, dreams or visions like my other babies."

‍

I didn’t wake up until noon the next day! But all day I felt that dull aching and walked swaying and moaning around the house. By late afternoon, on Saturday, I felt like I should go for another walk to see if it would help things along again like the night before. Nothing. I was able to hear my baby’s name on this walk though and I welcomed them in Ojibwe (indigenous tribe). Aho, boozhoo Bizaan-aya. His name would be Bizaan: quiet stillness, a focused peace. His spirit had been so quiet my entire pregnancy, not giving me any clues, dreams or visions like my other babies.

‍

That night, I began getting ready for bed. After my children called to say goodnight, I was about to climb in bed and a wave dropped me to my knees: hard, fast, serious. I stayed kneeling on the ground and soon felt another wave building, the pressure intensifying in my pelvis. I caught my breath after a few more and started placing  on my bed. I had to stop a few times to sway through a wave, but I eventually got it set up and climbed into bed, leaning back into my pillows.